brown, vastly different from my light pink ones.
“Wh-what?” I stammered. I was still staring. She smoothed oil over her belly, which was softer and a little more rounded than mine, working it under the strings of her bikini and down into the grooves of her thighs.
“Your top.” She massaged oil into her thighs and calves. “You can take it off-so you won’t have any tan lines.”
She lay on her back on the blanket, glancing over at me. I must have looked shocked. “No one can see, Veronica. It’s a private beach-just us.”
“What about the kids?” I looked over my shoulder at the house.
“One word: X-Box.” She adjusted herself, opening her thighs a little. I couldn’t see a hint of hair under the triangle of cloth between her legs and wondered at it. Her body was fuller than mine, more rounded and soft. “I won’t look. Don’t be shy.”
Her eyes stayed closed and I hesitated, looking up and down the beach. Then I pulled my top aside and checked my tan line-I was definitely getting one! Mrs. B’s breasts were so large that they kind of sloped off to the side when she leaned back. I was a little intimidated-mine were nowhere near as big-but it was the smooth, almost bronze color of her flesh that really convinced me. I wanted a tan without lines, too!
I untied my top and slipped it off, reaching for the oil. Squeezing some into my hands, I leaned back and rubbed it into the swell of my breasts. It felt strange to be outside half-naked in full daylight-I hadn’t gone topless on a beach since I was Janie’s age. My nipples were small, pale pink pebbles on a puffy, rounded areola, and with the stimulation from my hands rubbing the oil on and the gentle breeze blowing in from the ocean, they were quite hard.
Mrs. B hummed something to herself, but I didn’t know the tune. The rhythmic sound of the waves against the shore had me drifting in and out. Far away, I heard a dog bark.
The heat of the sun made me sweat, and I felt it mixing with the oil and trickling down my sides. It beaded between my breasts. When I snuck a look over at Mrs. B, I noticed the same thing, only it was more pronounced on her already tanned skin. I adjusted myself on the towel, straightening out the edges where they had blown up at the corners.
Mrs. B shaded her eyes and peered at me with a smile. “Why don’t you come over here? There’s plenty of room on the blanket and a lot less sand.” I considered it for a moment and then stood, hopping from my little towel over to the larger blanket so as not to get too much sand on my feet. Settling down beside her on my back, I felt the heat from her skin, but we weren’t touching.
“You have lovely breasts,” she murmured, and I felt her shoulder pressing against mine where it hadn’t been a moment ago.
“Th-thanks.” I was glad it was so warm to hide my flush. What did you say to someone who said that? “You do, too.”
“I wish I still had the body of a nineteen-year-old.” She gave a sad little laugh. “So firm and tight. There’s not a crease or a wrinkle on you, is there?”
Now I was really flushing. “I think you have a beautiful body. When I have two kids, I hope I can still wear a bikini out on the beach. And a micro one, at that!”
She turned her face to mine, smiling at me. “Well, thank you for the compliment.” I saw her eyes move down over my breasts, and I was aware of how hard my nipples were.
The conversation was making me feel dizzy and very warm. Maybe it was the heat-but I was pretty sure it was the conversation-that, and the fact I was lying half-naked next to Mrs. Baumgartner, her thigh now pressing against mine. She’d always been friendly and flirty with me-she was that way with everyone. But this was different. Very different. Our flesh was slick and oily together when she shifted, and it sent a gentle pulse beating between my legs, keeping a fast time against the sound of the waves on the shoreline.
“Do you have a micro-bikini?” Mrs. B’s eyes were closed again. I stared at her body, the generous swell of her copper-colored flesh, her big, dark nipples. Hers were hard, too.
“Yeah,” I said. “But I left it at home. I didn’t think it would be… appropriate.”
“You can borrow one of mine.” Her thigh slid along mine as she adjusted on the blanket. “If you want less of a tan line. I brought several.”
“Thanks.” I watched her breasts rising and falling, glistening in the sun. Her belly was beaded with sweat and oil.
“Do you shave?”
“Wh-what?”
“Do you shave?” she repeated, opening one eye to look at me. “I wax, myself. It’s much easier and takes care of things for a lot longer down there, if you know what I mean.”
“No.” I snapped my eyes closed.
“Oh, to wear a micro, you just have to.” She half-sat and touched my thigh, pulling my bathing suit bottoms aside a little to reveal the line of dark pubic hair. “Yep, you’d definitely need to shave. Or I brought some wax. You could wax it all. I do.”
Shocked, I stared at her. I didn’t know what I was more surprised by, her revelation or the fact she’d just nonchalantly pulled my bikini aside!
“It’s actually fun.” She winked. “Not the waxing part-but having a shaved pussy.”
I stared right up at the sun, blinking a few times so it made bright spots in the dark when I closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe Mrs. Baumgartner had just said the word “pussy” in front of me!
“Doc loves it.” I felt her hand against my hip, just resting there. “And it’s so incredible to walk around that way. You feel so exposed. It’s a constant turn-on.”
“Mrs. B…” I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say.
“I’d be happy to help you.” Her fingers moved over the elastic tops of my bikini bottoms. “It’s hard to do a bikini wax on yourself.”
I put my arms up over my head, tilting my head back and looking around as if someone might be there to overhear this crazy conversation-someone I might share my astonishment with.
“You think about it.” Her hand lightly stroked my side. I felt that gentle throbbing between my thighs, more insistent now.
“Okay,” was all I could say.
There was someone on the balcony, high above us. It was Mr. Baumgartner-Doc-sitting outside on one of the white deck chairs. He was completely naked. When I got over that shock, I noticed his hand moving up and down between his legs-very fast.
Was he? Is he?
Mr. B’s hand was warm against my side, just resting there. It made my breasts tingle, and I flushed when I realized I wanted her to touch them-to touch me. I wanted to close my eyes and my mind against the thought, but the blur of motion above drew my attention again. I knew I shouldn’t be watching, but I couldn’t help it.
Could he see us? I wondered. Was he up there, touching himself, looking down at his wife and the babysitting, lying topless on the beach together? That’s when he stood. I nearly gasped out loud as I watched thick, white streams of fluid erupt from the tip of his engorged cock and splash down onto the balcony and the railing.
His eyes never left mine.
“Mrs. B.” My voice trembled as I sat up. “I’m gonna go cool off. I’ll be right back.”
I stood, not sure I could stand, but I did, forgetting I was topless. I walked, a little unsteady, toward the water and waded out into the cool waves, up to my neck. When I looked back, Mr. Baumgartner was gone, but Mrs. B was still watching me, shading her eyes from the sun.
When she waved, I waved back, feeling that steady, rhythmic pulse between my thighs. The coolness of the water only served to make the heat between my legs more pronounced. I floated on my back, watching the clouds drift, letting the waves rock me and once in a while overtake me. When I finally had the courage to get out, Mrs. B had gone into the house, and the beach was empty again.
Chapter Two
